Temperamental Creatures
by RenaRoo
Summary: They have one night together, father and daughter, and they're dedicated to making sure it's as wonderful and beautiful for each other as possible. Then things go south...


goodluckdetective prompted: How about Bruce is hurt in a bad way at a public event where he's Bruce Wayne, and Cass struggles to keep him awake.

I expanded on the beginning of this one to bring on the extra pain. Also Bruce Cass relationship prompt!? EEEEE

Batman and related properties © DC Comics  
story © RenaRoo

 **Temperamental Creatures**

"Me?"

Bruce falters at the question. He has the tendency to do that when he's caught off guard by his children, for whatever reason. It brings a slight hue to his cheeks and makes his feet subtly shuffle as he stands strictly in place.

He wears his own skin more awkwardly than he wears the cowl.

Cass merely smiles.

"Of course you," he says, his voice and face becoming very serious. "If you'll go." He realizes a hair too late that he's made it optional - when he _truly_ doesn't want to - and shakes his head to backtrack. "What I mean to say, is that this is for family. I would love for all of us to go, but I understand how everyone is busy this time of year. And I would just. It's just that."

Cassandra gets up from lounging on the bed and heads to the closet, smiling knowingly as Bruce clumsily stumbles through his phrases.

"It is for my mother. And I would be _honored_ to have my daughter with me," Bruce finally says clearly.

Pulling out a fiery red dress she picked out with Stephanie the week before, Cass turns and smiles. Locking eyes with Bruce, she places the dress back and instead - almost instinctively - pulls out the more subdued blue gown.

Bruce recognizes it as her last birthday gift. The birthday he helped her choose for herself.

"Will you dance with me?" she asks coyly, all teeth in her grin.

"The night away," he says, body melting into cool relief.

* * *

Alfred is helping zip Cass' dress as Bruce comes up to the room again.

"Tim says he tried to rearrange things, but he won't be able to make it after all," he says, a slight frown to his lips. "He's overdoing it."

Cass reaches to him and harshly pats his cheek. "Gets that… from _somewhere,"_ she says lightly.

"Indeed," Alfred notes as he begins to fit her dress, adjust its sides, smooth the fabric. Cass has no idea why - she doesn't sit like a proper lady, it will all go to waste.

"I… I have something for you," Bruce continues.

She looks at her father expectantly - she knew the moment he walked in the door that he had ulterior motives.

He reaches into his pocket and produces a long, rectangular box with a felt cover. Cass blinks at it before accepting.

After flicking it open, Cass' eyes widen. The beautiful diamond necklace glimmers in the bedroom's light. It's old and fancy and _gorgeous._

"My mother wore it a few times to these events," Bruce explains. "I believe… if she was here… she would want you to have it."

Cass feels her hands shake slightly. She looks to Bruce with open mouthed awe. "She… _would?"_

Bruce nods proudly. "Cassandra, I have no doubt that my mother would adore you." His eyes crinkle at the edges - his true smile's giveaway. "When I see you out there, I always think about what _heart_ you have. And how… how it must just be a Wayne women thing."

He steps closer, taking the necklace from its box and delicately puts it on Cassandra.

As Cass closes her eyes an covers her face with her hands to somehow hide her tears and smile, she feels Bruce kiss her temple.

This is one of the greatest nights of her life.

* * *

They enter together, arm in arm, as the presses rave and cry out. Bruce waves them off, Cass plays off a coy smile and feigned shyness.

When Brucie answers a question about Cassandra's dating life with incredulous bombast, Cass punches his shoulder and hides her face in his shoulder. They both end up laughing too hard and momentarily drop the charade.

The reporters and other patrons laugh as well.

It is the most fun either of them has had in the public sphere in a long time. _Certainly_ together.

"Bruce," Leslie says, a warm smile on her face as they near her inside the gala walls. "This is the most _uplifted_ I have seen you at this charity event in all your years of coming to it."

Though he can't seem to drop his smile completely, Bruce's eyes become deep and heavy with emotion beneath his joy and light squeezing of his daughter's forearm. "I'm still serious about my dedication to the event, Leslie. No worries."

The doctor laughs, partially sighs, and pats Bruce's shoulder. "You truly are a _goof,_ Bruce Wayne, if you would ever think that Martha Kane Wayne would want you to honor her memory with anything less than a smile."

Bruce takes a breath, and nods, saying a gentle thank you before nodding to Cass and heading over to Lucius.

Cass watches him until Leslie steps toward her and places a warm hand on Cass' back. She rubs gentle circles into the fabric.

"You're making all the difference, you know," Leslie assures her, quiet and gentle. "The boys are wonderful. Bruce loves his boys - loves all of you - and he couldn't do a thing without you now that you're all in his life. But… you bring out something beautiful in Bruce. He loved his mother dearly, and I think the more you grow and mature the more he sees that fiery spirit and love in you."

Leslie locks eyes with Cass, adds, "Thank you."

They hug tightly. Cass has never felt more a part of the family.

* * *

Time has passed quickly, but the night is young yet.

Bruce and Cass sit off to themselves at a smaller table, sectioned off from the other charity patrons. Leslie is making her circles, campaigning more and more for the Martha Wayne foundation like the unstoppable force that she is.

"Alfred and Leslie," Cass says as she sticks the end of another skewer into her mouth. "Tell them. Make it… _happen."_

Smirking at her, Bruce reaches forward and tries to wipe some of the sauce off Cass' cheek only to have his hand batted away. "Cassie, that is a task I have tried to assist since I was _nine years old._ I can't seem to make heads or tails of them."

"Batman doesn't give up," she reminds him haughtily.

"Batman also knows when to pick his battles."

She sniffs at him before reaching for another cheese cube from her plate. She's enjoying tonight. Hopes it doesn't end. Unless that ending involves time for them to patrol the city again. Together. It's ben so _long…_

"Are you here?" she asks, biting at her lip. "To stay?"

He looks at her for a moment before shifting. "Perhaps," he says slowly. "I… have lots going on. There's several places that need me now. Both as Batman and as Bruce Wayne - but Gotham… Gotham needs a Batman." He cocks his head to the side. "Do you think three is too many for one city?"

Cass pokes around at her plate, contemplates waving down another waiter for more, but then decides to look seriously at her father instead. "Dick doesn't want to be Batman forever."

"I know," Bruce says seriously. "I… _appreciate_ all he has done. He has honored my mantle and me more than I could ever have deserved from him. But… he is not completely himself as Batman. And I believe he would be happier on his own again."

"Tim doesn't like his job," Cass presses more. "He's… _suckered_ on that one."

With a breath, Bruce nods. "Yes. I know. He talked to me."

Cass grins and takes a drink of water.

Bruce laughs. "I should have known you were behind that. Tim approaching me about this stuff would _never_ happen without a gun held to his head."

"Nope!" Cass agrees. But she knows Bruce is avoiding giving her the answer she wants to know. And she can't let him get away with that. So she pulls all the stops.

"Jason and Damian need you."

Looking at his cup, Bruce seems to instantly have energy drained from his shoulders and back. He twirls the liquid remaining in the cup. "I agree."

"Then stay," Cass urges. Having said her peace, Cass leans back, only for her father's words to finally catch up with her. _"Three?"_ she asks just before the ballroom's doors are all slammed open, and a troop of armed men enter. They wear masks - one side burned or blackened.

Cassandra and Bruce both are up and out of their seats in an instant as the rest of the party scream and panic.

 _"Leslie and the others,"_ Bruce hisses at her, straightening himself up as Harvey Dent shoots at the ceiling and begins barking out his demands.

"But -"

"He'll talk to me," Bruce assures her before holding up his hands and beginning to walk toward his former friend. "Harvey!"

Against all her instincts, Cass swallows down her voice and then begins to move.

* * *

Silently, from the shadows, and wrinkling the fabric of her dress in ways Alfred will surely never correct, Cassandra makes her way to Leslie and the other patrons. She wouldn't hardly need her stealth with everyone's concentration on Bruce and Harvey in the center of the room.

"You don't want to do this, Harvey," Bruce urges. "We're friends."

"I have half a mind to agree," Two-Face responds, raspy and smug. It makes Cassandra's muscles tense.

Two-Face is an enigma for her. A void. She looks into his body and sees nothing but contradiction. She's mentioned it to Batman before - that there is such a _strong_ presence with Two-Face that is unnatural that it unnerves even her astounding abilities.

Perhaps this is exactly why Bruce is being so incredibly foolish now. To protect her.

"But," Harvey continues, "the other half of me wants to beat you to death with a chair. I wonder what it'll be."

"That's up to you," Bruce responds, holding up one steady hand in a very direct way.

Cass stops, mid-motion, and waits as ordered. She has to trust Bruce… even if it means trusting the only man in the room Cassandra doesn't know the next move of. It's not a _good_ feeling.

"No, it's up to fate," the criminal proclaims before tossing his coin.

Bruce holds his hand, Cass fights every urge within her to leap into attack right then and there.

It lands. Heads.

"You're a good friend, Bruce," Harvey says gruffly, leading to a collective sigh of relief in the room. "I remember that. I can't just bash your brains in."

The gunshot blast blows Bruce backwards into a table that collapses beneath his weight.

" _NO!"_

Cassandra's screeches fill the room. She can barely hear a sound, note a single round of gunfire, before she has completely demolished Two-Face's men and pounced the murderous rogue. Everyone around is screaming and running out of the ballroom. Cassandra is beating a man's face in.

 _"Cassandra! Stop!"_

At Leslie's voice, Cassandra breathe and whips around. She has every intention of returning to her thorough beating of the man who shot her father, but she then notices, however shakily, Bruce's chest is moving.

She races forward.

* * *

"Keep him awake, Cassandra - for God's sake, _don't let him fade out!"_

Leslie works with speed and finesse that Cassandra cannot begin to understand, but the wound is _large_ , and the back's exit wound larger.

Sprawled out on the floor, Cassandra holds Bruce's hand against her chest and _squeezes_ it as tightly as possible.

Bruce is gritting his teeth, but it's not a tight clench of his jaw. Not the one Cass knows well. Sweat is already rolling off his head.

"You shouldn't have," Cass scolds, more bite in her words than she anticipated.

Bruce grunts, he seems to be concentrating. He's keeping himself from trembling. "I should have," he corrects.

"No, I'm faster," she scolds.

"Hnn," he mutters, eyes sliding closed.

Before Cass can begin to shake him awake, Leslie presses hard into the compress and Bruce howls, eyes opening wide again. Cass holds him down the best she can without dropping his hand.

Bruce gasps for air. "Lung. Got a lung," he mutters, a bubbly blood foaming at his lips.

"Shh, we know," Leslie offers. She shoots a look to Cass. "Talk to him. Keep him from using up his energy on things we already know."

Cass leans in closer, looks into her father's eyes. "Emergency… on the way. Okay? You're… you're _fine."_

Bruce looks to her almost sympathetically. Cass refuses to assess why.

"Okay," he eventually says before cringing and gasping again. Leslie works even faster.

Biting her lip, Cassandra squeezes Bruce's hand tighter. It feels cold. "Why?" she demands, voice shaking. "Why would you… would you do that?" she demands, quivering even more than Bruce. "Why not take him _out?"_

Taking an uneven breath, Bruce weakly squeezes her hands back. "B-because," he whispers so lowly that Cass leans in so he may speak in her ear. "Someone once t-taught me… _everyone_ deserves… deserves a second chance. For _anything."_

Cass' breath hitches. A memory of a girl with pigtails - a human weapon in a little pink dress - surfaces and she shudders.

It then clicks.

She looks to Bruce with horror. "You… my… You mean… you… _knew?"_ she whispers. Her eyes sting. "After-after it all… after my… my _kill_ … I am still yours?"

In all these years, Cassandra has suspected _exile_ was on the tip of her father's tongue. She could only pray he never knew of the blood on her hands.

Bruce coughs weakly but manages to turn his head enough and _look_ at Cassandra with serious, emotional eyes.

"You will _always_ be my daughter," he musters weakly. "You will always be _Batman's_ daughter."

Slowly, Cass takes a breath and widens her eyes. "The… the third?" she whispers, eyes stinging ever more. "The third Batman…"

"Yes," he whispers. "You…"

Cassandra ignores the tears of her own face to kiss her father's frigid cheek.

When she pulls away to look again, he has lapsed into silence, his eyes lightly closed.


End file.
